Little Boy BoyxBoy
by Togatta Hori
Summary: Ever since he was a little boy, Deacon has been involved in male prostitution - selling his body to older men. He has no escape of it until he's eighteen, which is in two years, and even then - he has only a slight chance that his Boss will allow him to leave. He desires to stand up to Boss, but is too scared of him. But after meeting someone who can help... will he let them?


Nothing

As the clock ticked away into an unknown time, I outlined my eyes with thick blackness to match the shade of the unclear sky. When I felt I'd got them perfect, I began to rummage through my mahogany chest of drawers, looking for my favourite silver chain. It was right at the bottom of the middle left drawer, coiled around my private journal.

I un-clipped it and put it around my neck, smiling. It looked perfect against my smooth, pale skin along with my black jacket and decoratively-ripped white top underneath.

I sat in front of my mirror, spiking my black and midnight-blue hair into its usually extravagant Tokyo style, and then when I'd used up at least half a bottle of sea-salt hairspray and hair gel, I started on fiddling in my difficult piercings: one through my right eyebrow (a blue crystal), then a miniature grey gage through both of my ears. I allowed my top to ride up as I punctured a black piercing through my navel, and then pushed it back down again to enter the clasp. Finally pleased with my overall appearance, I slipped in my silver contact lenses and blinked eight times.

"Perfect," I whispered to myself, checking up on my black nail varnish – making sure it hadn't chipped. "Just as the client requested." I collapsed back onto my bed in relief, careful not to spoil my hair. "I can relax for just a few more minutes before he calls again." I yawned, closing my eyes.

"Time for a cat nap-"

"DEACON, YOU LAZY LITTLE PRICK! Get your ass up!" A voice that belonged to my Boss barked loudly down my ear. I sat up, rubbing my eyes – forgetting about my eyeliner. I gasped as I came face-to-face with a broken mirror, realising I looked like a panda. "You're a disgrace!" I hung my head in shame, knowing he was right.

I looked up, begging his forgiveness, like a puppy that had disobeyed his Master.

"I'm sorry, sir! I'll clean myself up! I'll be perfect! I'm sorry..." My voice trailed off as he slapped me hard across my face, leaving a red, palm-shaped mark. Tears formed in my eyes as he stared down at me, unfazed at his action.

"Weak little boy," He commented harshly, with no clear facial expression. I choked back a few more heavy tears, hiding my face in my hands, embarrassment drowning me. As soon as my tears had dried, which didn't take long, a sickening smirk shaped his thin lips. "Hm... you may be weak-"

"S-sensitive..." I corrected him bravely.

"Sensitive, then. But... you're quite cute, aren't you?" A fluorescent blush filled my cheeks, almost becoming more scarlet than the mark he'd given me. "I'm sorry for spoiling your f-"

"Save it. I don't need your pity." My innocence had faded in just a few seconds.

"Hmph. Fine. Anyway, I came to tell you that your client cancelled his appointment."

"Is that so?"

"Mhm. So, you're free to wander the town tonight alone, I trust you." I looked up, trying to hide my excitement. Me, trusted by him to go out alone, without supervision from someone older? Jackpot! My last client must have really paid well.

"T-thank you, sir! Thank you so-" I mentally noted down his facial expression and silenced myself.

"Shut up and just... go; before I change my mind." I rushed a quick nod and walked out of the place I called 'home', shutting the door behind me.

The night was still young, and the moon was hiding behind some grim grey clouds, completely incognito. Numerous stars twinkled in the sky, blinking glossily, fascinating me.

I gazed up, envious of the stars' freedom. They came and went, but were always there, watching over the world beneath them. I often wondered why the stars chose not to be seen in the day.

Was it too bright for them to be seen? That's what a lot of people thought. But had only I ever stopped to think that stars actually had the power to shine as bright as the sun so they could be seen as equally as it? Many intellectual theories filled my head, and I lost my thoughts for a short while as I closed my eyes, imagining a world illuminated by stars.

I thought of the beauty that I'd never live long enough to see.

Stars were pure. They guided the future, they lead people to mystical places, and they could be read and interpreted.

If they were able to forgive… would they?

"It is interesting how the most beautiful things in this world seem to only last for a short while. These temporary treasures can fill us with great feelings of wonderment and joy, but there is an inherent sadness to them. The good thing, though, is that the beauty that is lost gives ways to other awe-inspiring scenes… like seeing you."

"W-what?" The tranquil silence that had surrounded me was interrupted by a smooth voice. I spun around on my heel to see a tall boy with pitch black hair and captivating catlike eyes, the colour of two shining emeralds.

I felt my jaw drop slightly, but being lifted back up afterwards by two of this unknown boys' fingers. He repeated what he said before, a seductive smirk passing his pierced lips.

"W-who are you?" I smacked his hand away, looking up at him, slightly intimidated by his height.

"Who I am… is none of your concern, little boy." I flinched at what he called me.

"I'm not a little boy. I'm sixteen."

"Exactly – just a little boy. So, what's your name, little boy?" He was beginning to irritate me greatly.

"If you stop calling me 'little boy', you'll have a better chance of finding out!" I snapped, my annoyance wavering along my speech.

He suddenly slipped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him, lifting my chin up so I was practically forced to gaze into those emerald eyes of his. He slipped his hand into my pocket to keep a hold of me, and grinned. A light blush filled my cheeks, but (luckily enough for me), he chose to ignore that.

"Ooh, feisty. But seriously, what's your name?" Since he'd irritated me, I decided I was going to irritate him now and be difficult.

"Not telling," I responded childishly, smirking. To my surprise and slight dismay, he just shrugged.

"Suit yourself," he removed his hand from my pocket and uncoiled his arms from my waist before walking off, leaving me alone in the darkness.

"Well then… that was… weird?" I started to walk in the opposite direction, soon forgetting about the mysterious boy. I headed towards the only place I could call my 'second home': my friend Kieran's tattoo studio.

My pace quickened to a kind of bouncy skip-walk towards the studio, hoping it was open. Zach (Kieran's assistant) and Kieran himself knew I liked to drop by and watch everybody get their unique tattoos, so they'd extended the amount of days that they were open – which was Mondays to Saturdays – and Sunday was their day off. I wondered what day it was (most of the time I couldn't keep track); mentally crossing my fingers that it was a weekday.

Thursday!

My memory had finally decided to kick in. But what time was it?

I lifted up my wrist and glanced at my watch, wrinkling my nose up a bit.

Quarter to nine? They'll be open.

I noticed the streetlights blaring overhead, some so old that sparks were beginning to fly off their ignitions. I stopped to think that I should let Kieran and Zach know that I was coming to visit them so I didn't seem like I was intruding. I didn't want to interrupt anything important, either.

I plunged my hand into my jacket pocket and fished around for my mobile phone. After a few short moments, I withdrew my hand from my pocket and frowned before checking the other one.

"…Where is it?" I muttered to myself, growing increasingly impatient. I searched every pocket I had, but with no luck of finding my phone.

Great, I thought irritably, just great. I've lost it. I'm such an idiot…!

"Hmm… did I even bring it with me? Must have… I don't ever leave anywhere without it…" I heard my own panicky tone in my voice, remembering that all my personal details like my full name and home address were saved on that phone. This gave me a better reason to quickly pay a visit to Kieran and Zach so they could help me find it.

I sighed and made my way down the street, towards the shopping centre where 'Ink Of the Soulz' (Kieran's tattoo studio) was located.

I passed a few indoor fountains and plants and got waved at by store-owners that were closing their own shops. They knew who I was personally by now, and so they should, considering Kieran had dragged me around and forced me to meet everyone that worked at the shopping centre when we first became friends. However, this was a long time ago.

I remembered when I first met Kieran. He was working as an escort, as I was now. We had become close friends since we'd been the youngest employees there. We'd fantasised about our futures, and he'd always be drawing and painting with me; he was an excellent artist. He used to tell me about how he was going to be a famous tattooist, and now, he'd finally fulfilled his ultimate dream.

But Kieran was six years older than I was when we were working together (meaning he was twenty-two now) and as soon as he came of age and turned eighteen, he had managed to convince the Boss to allow him to leave the business legally. I had missed him, the person that I treated as an older brother, but he promised that one day, he'd rescue me.

He still hadn't, but that was okay, since he'd made an agreement with the Boss that he could sometimes visit me and present me with a special pass that allowed me out of 'home' once in a while, or on an occasion I couldn't afford to miss… and that was enough for me.

I was abruptly knocked out of my daydream when I slammed straight into the door as a result of not paying attention to where I was walking.

"Ah! Deacon," a warm voice welcomed me into the shop as I regained sense and opened the door.

"Kieran!" I smiled at the older boy.

"You're looking well. How are you?"

"I'm okay, thanks. Yourself?"

"I'm fine. So… how's the Boss?" Kieran's voice dripped with bitterness.

I simply shrugged.

"He's still a bastard, Ki. The worst bastard in all of Japan."

"Mhm. Agreed." Zach walked into the room at that moment, stuffing his face with a chocolate bar.

"Oh hi, Deacon!" He grinned, tossing the chocolate bar to the side to pull me into a tight embrace.

"H-hey, Zach," I stuttered slightly, surprised by the assistant's sudden hug. He pulled away, keeping his cheerful grin, twisting the electric-blue wire of his headphones around his fingers.

"It's great to have you here, as always!" I arched my eyebrow, wondering why Zach, who was usually so quiet and calm (in other words, the 'sensible' one), was so joyful today.

"Look at my new iPhone!" He literally threw it at me. I caught it and examined its form. That was a reasonable explanation for his excitement.

"Eh. Cool. Not as cool as my Huawei Blaze though," I joked.

Wait.

My Huawei Blaze!

"Guys! That's one of the reasons I'm here! I lost my phone and I need you two to help me find it, okay?"

"You love that phone! You treasure it like a child. How did you come to lose it?" Gasped Kieran, his jaw dropping slightly. It might've been because he had purchased that phone for me… and now I felt really, really bad.

"Pffft, no, he didn't lose it. It's clearly been nicked,"

"Nicked?"

"Stolen."

"Ohhh…" Kieran and I lamented in unison. "Well then… that sucks." I sighed and apologised to Kieran before I forgot to.

"I'm so sorry. So, so, so sorry, Kieran," I chewed on my lower lip guiltily, looking up at him with my false silver eyes.

"Oh don't be sorry, little boy," Kieran patted my head, flattening my styled hair a bit. "It was an accident. Besides, if it was stolen, it totally wasn't your fault now, was it?"

"Yeah, but… it means I weren't looking after it properly,"

"We both know that's not true; you always look after anything I give you." There was a long silence before we started to speak again.

"What about reporting it to the police?" Zach's strong Japanese accent slurred slightly with boredom. Well, not quite boredom, but thoughtlessness.

"There's no point. Besides, it's not like I had anything that really mattered on there. My full name is as useless as a fake name, and my address just leads to prostitute institution… not exactly my problem if the thief, if that's what we're assuming, steals anything – because nothing belongs to me there. Nothing, not even myself." I shrugged, rubbing my temples with two of my fingers.

"Nothing."

Discover

"…You're looking panda-eyed." Kieran watched me reapply my already-smudged eyeliner on my lower eyelid after I'd spent an entire half an hour crying over the loss of my precious phone. I'd promised myself I wouldn't cry over such a meaningless thing, but it was impossible for me to keep a promise.

Even to myself.

"I know," I sniffled, gently rubbing away the extra, unneeded blackness from underneath my eyes.

"Want me to help?"

"No."

"Deacon…" Kieran sighed, "I'll buy you a new phone. It's not a big deal, okay?" He smiled comfortingly, but I just stared at him blankly.

"No, not okay. I liked that phone…"

"Yeah, but that's all it was. It was just a phone, get over it. There are worse things in life than getting your phone stolen. Now, I think you should be getting home, it's kind of late…" He gestured to the door where Zach was standing, car-keys in hand.

"Come on, Deacon. I'll give you a lift," I walked out of the store with Zach following me, his keys jingling like little bells as he moved.

We both exited the shopping centre and headed towards Zach's crimson Toyota AYGO.

Zach swung open the front passenger door, signalling for me to get in. I sat down on the cold leather seat, quickly checking myself in the rear-view mirror.

"You look fine now," sighed Zach, getting in also.

"Are you sure? You know what happens if I don't look perfect for the Boss…"

"Yes, I know what happens. And I'm sure you look fine." He put his seatbelt on, and I did the same. I remained silent for a couple of moments before awkwardly trying to start an idle conversation with the shop assistant.

"So… um…" I fiddled with my fingers as Zach inserted the keys into the ignition, twisting them to turn the car's engine on in the process.

"What was your childhood like?" _Oh great question, Deacon. _Every _good conversation starts by talking about stressful or spoilt childhoods, _I thought, frustrated with my own gawkiness.

Zach frowned as he began to pull away from where he was parked.

"Uh… why do you want to know?" He didn't exactly appear annoyed or agitated by my random question, but greatly confused by it. I shrugged, running my hand through my hair.

"I'm not sure. I just couldn't think of anything else to say…" I admitted, scratching the back of my neck lightly.

"Oh," he smiled a bit as he drove out of the shopping centre's parking lot and onto the quiet streets, towards my 'home'.

"Well then, my childhood wasn't really that eventful. I had two brothers that I fought with all the time, I used to collect action figures, watched the old _Batman _series on TV and I had pictures of women on my walls as I got older… I _was_ your average boy, to be honest…"

"How exciting," I chuckled sarcastically. "But… seriously – pictures of women on your walls? Isn't that kind of… um… creepy?"

Zach shrugged as he slipped the CD for his favourite album, '_Let's Cheers To This' _by Sleeping With Sirens into the CD player.

"Not really. I mean, if it's creepy for me to pin posters up of them, it's even creepier to be taking the posters to put in some skanky magazine so guys can stare at it forever. Magazines last longer than posters. I'm actually surprised that you haven't got any up…" I looked at him with one eyebrow raised, unimpressed by this comment.

"Are you calling me a pervert or something?" I asked, pouting my lower lip innocently.

"No! I'm just saying that for a boy of your age, you should at least have a stash of naughty posters of girls _somewhere… _right?" He laughed slightly. I hesitated for a moment or two, chewing my manicured nails in anxiety.

"Well… of course I do! Yeah… loads of sexy pictures of naked girls and… stuff…" I lied, and not in a very convincing manner.

"Ah, cool."

I sighed quietly in relief as Zach didn't persist to know more; since I would have to spin a longer lie of saying I had posters.

Well, it wasn't entirely a lie; I _did_ have some of these posters (that I obviously didn't pin up)… but they hadn't got women on them. Instead, they were of men, mostly Japanese and Korean, that I found extraordinarily attractive. I also had a secret stash of 'Yaoi' novels hidden in my underwear drawer which I read in my spare time.

For some reason, I didn't really want to tell Zach this. I imagined his immediate reaction to be:

"Oh."

And I got the feeling he would remain silent for the rest of the journey. I tried to change the conversation subject.

"Anyway," I said casually, "why don't we stop at a sushi bar or something before you drop me off at home?" I asked with a hint of eagerness in my tone of voice.

"No." Came his simple reply.

"Pleeeeeeeaaaaaasssssseeeeeee ?"

"No."

"Not even if I beg and plead?"

"No. Even if you beg and plead, my answer will still be no."

"Whyyyyy?" I exaggerated the 'y', pouting my lower lip childishly.

"One – we're here," I looked out of the window, only just realising that the car had parked itself on the curb outside my home.

"And two, I didn't bring any money with me, so we couldn't have stopped at a sushi bar. Besides, it's getting late," he got out of the car, opening the passenger door for me.

He escorted me to the front door and rung the bell, waiting for the Boss or one of his 'premier' colleagues to open it.

It was opened by a tall, shadowy figure with the most… _beautiful _eyes I'd ever seen. I felt like I'd seen him before, but I couldn't remember where. He had silky black hair that fell over one of his gorgeous green eyes, and his lips were pierced with two small snakebites.

I jogged my memory in an attempt to recognise this guy.

"Oh, hey," he was looking directly at Zach with no clear expression, paying me no mind.

"Um… hi," Zach greeted him awkwardly, a look of confusion on his face. Over all the times he'd dropped be back at 'home', he'd never seen this mysterious guy before.

Then again, neither had I.

Or had I?

_Come on, _I mentally groaned, _who is he? You know this, Deacon!_

"Is there anything you particularly needed?" As he spoke, I noticed the guy had a different accent from ours. It was like a classic American accent combined with a Londoner's accent.

It was kind of… cute.

"Yeah, I've come to return Deacon."

"Deacon…?" The guy looked down at me, and a wide smirk spread across his handsome face.

"Oh yeah, we've been expecting him."

"Expecting me? I live here. How can you be expecting me?" I mumbled under my breath, out of anyone else's earshot.

"Come inside then, Deacon," his smirk was still plastered across his face as he gently tugged me by my jacket sleeve inside, "Thank you for bringing him back. You can go now."

"Bye Za-" The guy shut the door before I could say goodbye to him.

"So… Deacon's your name…" he lifted my chin up to look him straight into his eyes, false silver meeting his shimmering green orbs.

And in that moment, I knew exactly who it was.

"It's…._you_!"

I sat down at the dining table and stared at the wooden surface, unable to look at anyone else. We waiting patiently for our dinner to be served and that were the point when most of the boys took their plates up to their rooms to either eat or trash it (because I knew for a fact that most of them starved themselves in fear of becoming heavier than the Boss's limitations).

Soon, it was just me and the mysterious guy from earlier – the one I met whilst walking to Kieran's shop - sitting at the table in complete silence.

"So…" he wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist after devouring a huge bowl of boiled rice, "your name's Deacon." He repeated his earlier sentence.

"Yes, my name's Deacon. If you don't mind me asking, what's yours? And, an even better question: why are you here?" I balled up my fists and placed my elbows on the table, resting my chin on my knuckles.

"I knew you'd ask that eventually. I'm not actually sure about my real name now. I've gone by so many identities…" he paused, "…but I guess you can call me Denny, but I prefer Denzil. I think it's a cooler version of Dennis." He looked slightly uneasy, which – for some strange reason – amused me.

"Okay, _Denzil. _Why are you here?"

"I came to return something to you." I raised my eyebrow, wondering what it could be.

"What is it…?" As far as I knew, I had nothing to lose – literally. So what could he be returning?

"Your… phone," he admitted, shrugging. He plunged his hand into his pocket and pulled out my phone, which had the faint scent of ashy cigarettes now.

"H-how did you get that?" I asked, secretly overjoyed – but also very confused.

"Did you find it on the floor or something? I _knew _I'd lost it! Obviously, someone didn't steal it," I scoffed to myself, rolling my eyes.

"Actually… _I _stole it." I looked up suddenly, anger filling my glare. Before I could start demanding why he'd stolen it, he began to speak again, preventing me from talking.

"Remember when we met earlier, and I slipped my hand into your pocket when you refused to give me any details about yourself?" I nodded slowly, and then realisation struck me.

I cursed unmentionable words under my breath softly, gritting my teeth.

"Yeah… I remember… let me guess, you were desperate to know so you stole my phone in order to receive my address. Then later on, you would heroically arrive here like Prince-Fucking-Charming to return it. Am I right?" I cringed when I realised how over-exaggerated my answer was.

"I guess so… but I only wanted your name," he shrugged. A sly grin passed his lips, "If I'm Prince-Fucking-Charming, wouldn't that make you the damsel in distress?" He grin widened until he looked like the Cheshire Cat.

"What? No!" Blood filled my cheeks, reddening them so they exploded into a bright blush. I mentally swore for being so prone to blushing like a little…schoolgirl.

"Ha, whatever you say. Anyway… I should probably get going… _Deacon_," he reached under the dining table and grasped my hand, his grin softening into a slight smile.

I blushed darker, and tried to pull away from him – but his grip was tight, and it was impossible for me, especially since I was quite tired and weak as night dawned.

He squeezed my hand and let go, waving to me as he stood up.

"Goodbye…" In the blink of an eye, he had disappeared into the darkness.

I sat at the table, a look of pure confusion plastered upon my face.

"What… the fuck… just happened?" I quizzed, frowning to myself.

Just as I said that, the Boss appeared in the doorway. I sat up straight; my face became expressionless, like a delicate, antique doll, and I made sure I wasn't making direct eye-contact with him. He liked it when I was like this – vulnerable, fragile.

He leant against the door frame, noticing that I'd acknowledged his presence. How could I not?

"So Deacon," he finally spoke, "What did that


End file.
